


Fantasy

by miserylolita



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drunken Kissing, F/F, Fantasy Fulfillment, Female Characters, Female Homosexuality, Female Relationships, Female-Centric, Lesbian Sex, Misunderstandings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Fantasy, Shoujo-ai, Some Plot, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 01:16:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3468980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miserylolita/pseuds/miserylolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice Kirkland and Amelia Jones meet under ordinary college circumstances. But with the combination of Alice's secret and Amelia's allure, things start to get a bit more complicated. College AU. Some plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Dream

Part I

When did it start?

Something about Amelia was different from the beginning. That much Alice could tell. Objectively Amelia did not stand out too much from people in general, although she arguably did capture the space of any room with her presence. She exuded a vivacious energy, an enthusiasm for daily life. She was talkative, loud, and boisterous… precisely the type of person that irritated Alice.

They had met through a mutual friend (Maddie), and this initial encounter was but a fleeting one, only a moment in Alice’s day. But Amelia Jones, with her short blonde bob, smiling blue eyes, and robust sun kissed body, left her impression.

How different she was from Alice Kirkland, who thin and pale, nervous green eyes behind round glasses, and hair in long, ash blonde pigtails, didn’t speak much the first time they had met. What little impression she had probably left.

But Amelia had remembered her, calling her name out immediately the next time they passed each other by chance. It was a sunny day on campus, and it so happened that they both were heading to the dining hall to grab some food.

“Let’s eat together!”

Alice politely agreed, but she grumbled on the inside. Eating lunch was usually a solitary activity on Tuesdays, a time to relax between classes. It was a good time to read as well, as her English Literature degree workload demanded a good amount of reading. More than that, she did not know Amelia well enough to let Amelia in on her private time. To be cordial in public was no problem, but Alice had an introverted sense of private space, and for an unfamiliar to enter was akin to intrusion.

It was a disturbance of routine. It was fall semester of her sophomore year, and she followed the same steps each time she came to the cafeteria to grab lunch on Tuesdays, except for today. Now Amelia was up in her business, asking questions and talking a lot on her own. Alice felt disheartened that she would have to spend the next half hour talking with someone who was probably more interested in the quantity than the quality of conversation. She felt exhausted just anticipating exhaustion, and put a salad on her tray sullenly while Amelia asked her how her classes were.

“They’re alright,” Alice replied, noncommittally scratching the surface of all the ways she could respond.

“What major are you in?” came the standard follow up question.

“English Literature.”

“Oh! I’m a general Liberal Arts major! I’m hoping to take some classes in your department next semester!”

Hm. This could go somewhere, now they had a common track. When they sat down to eat and talk, Alice felt more at ease.

“What sort of things do you do for fun, Alice?”

Uh oh. “I read,” Alice started, to give herself time to think. Amelia laughed heartedly in response. “I also like to… write.”

“Ooh! What kind of stuff do you write?”

Alice swallowed. Make something up, make something up. “Nothing too exciting, just some fantasy stuff.”

“Hm! Cool, cool. You don’t strike me as the fantasy literature fan type, but cool!”

Amelia wasn’t off the mark. Alice didn’t quite write fantasy, or at least the kind of fantasy Amelia was imagining. What she really wrote was fantasy of a different nature, and certainly not the kind you bring up in polite conversation.

“I’d be interested in reading it sometime, if that’s okay with you!”

Alice flushed a bit. No way was that going to happen. But in the first place, Amelia was probably saying that as a pleasant formality. There was no way she was actually interested in what Alice was writing. She knew nothing about Alice. “Sure, but none of it’s any good.”

Amelia enthusiastically disagreed, irritating Alice again. There was no reason for her to have this blind faith in her writing for the sake of appearing friendly.

As they walked down the steps leaving the cafeteria, Amelia turned to Alice. Alice noticed just now that they were the same height, and couldn’t help but discreetly trace Amelia’s neck down to her cleavage for a second. They weren’t standing that close, but Amelia’s chest was large enough to noticeably protrude into Alice’s space. They were… impressive.

“I’m really glad I got to talk with you! You seem intimidating, but you’re just really chill and nice.”

“Oh. Thanks. It was nice talking with you as well.” They exchanged greetings and the polite promise to meet again sometime, which Alice didn’t particularly intend on following up with, and imagined that Amelia didn’t mean it wholeheartedly either. But to her surprise, next Tuesday, and the one after that, Amelia bumped into her at the same time, at the same place, and they ate and talked together.

“Do you have a class today?” Alice inquired on the third week. She did, but it was later in the afternoon. So she was going out of her way to eat here on Tuesdays. But why?

“I want to hang out with you,” was her straightforward reply.

Alice was stunned and couldn’t immediately respond. Normally this level of active pursuit in her life was irritating. She liked to control her space. But she was slightly happy that Amelia had said it so straightforwardly. “Oh. Well.” She pushed up her glasses and swallowed. Maybe that was just a thing Amelia said to anyone. She did have lots of friends, after all. And being proactive as well as likable was how she made them.

Alice struggled to find words to reply with. There was a question tugging at her as well: Why? 

The conversation moved on, as if that moment was as ordinary as any other. Amelia did not seem bothered by Alice’s lack of returned affirmation.

Before they parted in front of the building, Alice couldn’t help but notice Amelia’s cleavage again. It didn’t help that Amelia wore low-cut tank tops. The line between her breasts, pushed against each other by virtue of their size, formed a visual guide up Amelia’s neck to her face, or vice versa. Frankly, it was a bit distracting. Alice had been unable to prevent herself from looking several times during the meal today. The way Amelia sat, with her arms folded underneath her breasts and leaning forward on the table, was as if to invite a gaze. But it was probably a habit of Amelia’s—she could sit however she wanted, and the fact that it made the room feel a bit hot to Alice was Alice’s problem.

When Amelia invited Alice and their mutual friends on a sightseeing trip, Alice noticed how Amelia led the group, but seemed to stay mostly by her side. They were in a coastal town, where the autumn breeze mixed with the air of the sea, sending out reminders of winter to come. Amelia was still wearing a low-cut tank top, of course with a jacket around her shoulders. She seemed warm, and Alice felt it firsthand, as Amelia spent a deal of the trip with herself… pressed against Alice’s arm.

Surely it was a gesture of affection, and by this point, two months into their friendship, it was a form of physical contact Alice could reluctantly accept. But it was distracting to feel Amelia’s warm, soft breasts pushed against her arm, and to feel Amelia move. When Alice came home from that trip, she sat down at her computer, filled with a newfound burning.

With that burning as fuel, she typed. It had been a while, with all the coursework and readings she prioritized, since she last wrote out her fantasies. She wrote out lewd, vulgar things in coarse language, vaguely mentioning blonde hair, blue eyes, and sun kissed skin somewhere. She pictured a girl in the shower, touching herself, unaware of Alice’s watchful gaze, and described the things she longed to do to this girl.

Overwhelmed, Alice went to bed early that night, and woke up from an erotic dream that she couldn’t remember. Only the stain in her pants gave any proof of what had taken place during sleep, and with frustration she washed it in her private bathroom.

She could barely look Amelia in the eye that next week—she tried to not look at all, for surely her eye would be drawn below Amelia’s face. She tried to stop recalling the vivid sensation of Amelia’s chest squished against her arm. Amelia, being aware and perceptive of Alice’s discomfort and dodginess, questioned her on this.

“Are you okay?”

An innocent question, yet Alice felt backed into a corner. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem okay,” Amelia responded, and Alice felt trapped in an even smaller space.

“No, really, I’m fine.” Alice switched the subject after this, not keen on playing back and forth.

Before they parted, Amelia seemed to lose a bit of her energy.

“If I did something to upset you, I’m sorry,” Amelia started. “But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to know what it was.”

Alice finally looked her in the eye, and saw Amelia’s concerned and hurt expression. Had she really been that cold? From Alice’s perspective, she was trying her best to behave as usual despite feeling standoffish, probably from the shame of having felt desire for her friend. But from Amelia’s perspective, Alice probably seemed aloof and unfriendly for a reason Amelia could not discern.

“It’s not you,” Alice began, unsure of where she was going with this. “It’s just been, it’s just been a rough week?”

Amelia pondered this. “Hey! I’m going to this book club party this Friday, if you’re interested in joining me.”

“Book club?” Alice gaped. “You go to a… book club?”

“I’m in Liberal Arts, Alice! I read!”

“Yes, yes, but, there’s a book club…?”

“Oh. Well yeah! Actually, we call it a book club, but it’s really me and some of my friends from class,” Amelia clarified, rubbing her head sheepishly. “We sometimes talk about books, though we mostly focus on having a good time.”

“I see.” Alice agreed, feeling neutral about being around a bunch of people who knew Amelia but didn’t know her. But as they parted ways for the week, she couldn’t help but feel excited.

For the rest of the week, Alice woke up from sleep every morning with her pants moist, and with a frustration that was hard to pinpoint. She was not naïve, however. Her frustrations channeled into more writings and became lucid words and images, taking forms that made her frustration only grow stronger.

As with all writings, she posted them to an anonymous blog on the corner of the internet, where her tiny readership acknowledged her work but knew nothing of her identity. It gave her a bit of relief, sending her erotic fantasies out there. In a way, they grew in distance by attaining such scope in access.

That first book club was a tame discussion with a pleasant energy level. A girl named Francoise, whom Alice knew slightly in freshman year, was there as well. She had her arm around Maddie, who seemed very quietly happy about that arrangement.

One of the members mentioned lesbian erotica, and that’s when Alice’s heart skipped a beat. The atmosphere with which the group responded would decide her experience for the rest of the evening. To her relief and even happiness, the members responded enthusiastically. She couldn’t help but look at Amelia with hopeful eyes, waiting for her to join in the conversation.

“Amelia, have you ever read any?” another member asked what Alice wanted to know, but didn’t want to admit to wanting to know.

“Yeah, here and there,” Amelia answered. “I’ve actually recently been finding some nice stuff online.”

Alice’s heart raced. A glimmer of hope and fear rose in her chest. She felt elated, but also nervous. Amelia was not against erotic attraction between women, and in fact enjoyed reading about it. She thought back to how Amelia said, even if only in the name of friendliness, that she was interested in reading Alice’s stuff. But that would be way too embarrassing.

Later that week, Alice had a dream that she remembered lucidly. She wrote it down and posted it immediately after waking, without filtering it through the haze that day makes of dream memories. A girl was dancing, and she was watching while sitting on a chair. This girl wore a low cut tank top, so low cut that her bra did most of the coverage, and a short skirt that exposed her ass when she bent over. The girl gradually came closer to her, gyrating her hips and flashing peeks at her panties. When she got close enough, she straddled her onlooker and moved her hips sensually, while her breasts, nearly popping out from underneath her clothes, were right front in her onlooker’s face, so close that she could breathe on them.

That Tuesday, Alice had an easier time looking Amelia in the eye. Some of her discomfort still remained, however, as she felt like not all of herself was within her control. She felt more self-conscious than usual, of her own chaste dress and glasses and lips and hair, and could not focus 100% on what the conversation was about. Amelia was as energetic as usual, and Alice felt comfortable bringing out her inner snark, which Amelia would respond to in good humor. Their rapport was beginning to settle into a comfortable dynamic, one that Alice could look forward to.

Come Friday, however, the second book club gathering Alice attended, things were quite different from the previous week. This time, Amelia accompanied her to a house with a muffled hum of clamor and music, and only after a moment did Alice realize that it was in fact, the same house, just with a lively party going on inside. Unsure of herself, she entered the space, stepping into a new atmosphere.

They were greeted enthusiastically. Some faces were familiar from last week, others were vaguely familiar as faces on campus, and some were strangers entirely. The house was decently filled with people—no longer was it an intimate affair, but an anonymous night of gathering. Alice detected the smell of alcohol, and several people were red-faced and lacked the subtlety of sobriety.

“Are you ready to have a good time?” Amelia turned to her apprehensive companion enthusiastically, practically shouting above the general volume.

Alice felt out of her element. She accompanied Amelia as she flitted like a social butterfly from person to person, group to group, making time for each one for no other reason than as if to check off a list of people she had interacted with. Alice didn’t know what else to do. Eventually she separated from Amelia and ended up with Maddie, Francoise, and a few others. Francoise was already inebriated, having brought her own wine. Maddie, too, was tipsy and leaning against her, and they were speaking a jarring mix of French and English.

“ _Ma choupinette_ ,” Francoise slurred affectionately, petting Maddie’s hair clumsily. “What pretty… _cheveux_ you ‘ave…”

“Did you just call me a pretty horse,” Maddie whined gently, mishearing Francoise’s French. She sleepily let Francoise run her hands through her long blonde hair, loose from its pigtails.

It wasn’t much of a mystery was going on between them, so to no one’s surprise, Francoise planted a passionate kiss on Maddie’s flushed cheek, then another on her lips. The group left them alone after that. The couch in the corner was theirs. Alice was left to wander around until she found Amelia sitting in a circle with other people.

“Hey Alice! Are you interested in a drinking game? We’re going through Shakespeare quotes,” Amelia called to her.

Someone else joined in. “You take a shot every time there’s a quote with a sex joke or toilet humor.”

“Wow,” Alice said, sounding unimpressed, but joined the circle next to Amelia. As she sat down, she was highly aware of the way Amelia’s leg pressed against her in the tight fit of the group.

The group took turns reading excerpts selected at random, some with normal reading voices, others with dramatic flair. Amelia was one of the latter, although she could not help but burst into laughter midway through her reading, and had to stop to take her third shot. She was still coherent by this point.

Alice, on the other hand, was feeling a bit out of control. When it came to her turn to read a selection from Hamlet, she had to stop a few times to relocate herself within the text, and by the time she was done, everyone owed another three shots.

“I, don’t think I should drink anymore,” Alice grumbled.

“That’s fine! That’s fine,” Amelia repeated, her inebriation only increasing her gregariousness. She even patted Alice on the back a few times too many for emphasis. “I’ll count on you to take me home!”

Alice grumbled, but didn’t refuse. She went to get a drink of water and observed the rest of the game. Shakespeare didn’t hold back, even if Queen Elizabeth was one of his royal patrons. By the time it was decided that everyone should stop, passages were barely understandable, fits of laughter could burst out without cause, and a general loose madness was upon the people. But everyone made sure to eat some snacks and stay hydrated.

She poured Amelia a glass of water, the blonde American not trusting herself to be able to do it at this stage. Laughing lightheartedly for no reason, she took the cup and drank it, not taking her eyes off Alice’s for one moment. Alice froze, but couldn’t look away. There was something in that gaze that seemed to signal something to her… but it couldn’t be that.

“Ah! Thanks,” Amelia exclaimed, breaking the eye contact. “That was super refreshing!”

By the time the party had quieted down, and they had exited, Amelia somehow managed to get drunker and had to lean on Alice in the taxi, and on the way home. At first she made a frenzied amount of conversation, asking what Alice thought of the party, how much she had to drink, how she was feeling, if she would come again—nothing invasive, which Alice appreciated. She was slightly tipsy herself, enough so that Amelia’s barrage didn’t particularly annoy her. In fact, she felt a bit happy.

After a while, though, they sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence, like there was some sort of tension in the air, and Amelia, bless her drunk heart, decided to plop her head against Alice’s shoulder like it was the most normal thing to do in the world. Alice flinched but stayed still, wondering if Amelia was falling asleep. Her cleavage was open to Alice’s gaze, and her breasts were only inches away from her arm. Alice swallowed and brushed away these dirty thoughts, trying to focus on just getting Amelia home and getting herself home for the night.

They lived in the same building, just on different floors. Amelia still leaned on Alice, her vivacious drunkenness replaced by a sweet sleepiness. Alice felt tender.

As they reached her floor, Amelia did it again. She pressed her breasts against Alice’s arm, and Alice tensed up visibly. Nothing was said. Alice didn’t know if she was imagining it, but it felt like Amelia was rubbing her breasts against Alice’s arm, and Alice knew her face was turning pink. They reached the door, which Amelia opened, and to Alice’s surprise, led her inside. Uh.

Amelia’s room was surprisingly neat and clean. Alice could’ve pictured Amelia as the quintessential laidback, messy girl, but Amelia’s room was relatively tidy, with the odd article of clothing or stray papers here and there. She was sat down in Amelia’s chair, while Amelia offered to bring her some water. So she wanted to hang out some more, alright.

While Amelia was in her kitchenette, Alice couldn’t help but stare at her bed. This was where Amelia slept. When Amelia returned, she diverted her gaze to the desk, where a copy of Rubyfruit Jungle lay flat with a bookmark in it.

“Oh. That’s a good book,” Alice commented. Amelia set the glass of water down and stood behind the chair. “I read it when I was in…” she hadn’t finished her sentence before she felt hands on her shoulders.

She was suddenly aware that all she could hear was herself breathing. The room was silent, save for the rustle of Amelia’s clothes when she walked. The hand on her shoulder rotated and Amelia walked around to the front of the chair, removed her jacket and sat right on Alice’s lap. Alice watched her with wide eyes, her face growing redder by the second. Amelia’s crotch was squished against the surface of her thighs. Her hands moved up to Alice’s face, cupping her cheeks and she leaned in close. Alice smelled the lingering sting of alcohol as Amelia kissed her, neither gently nor forcefully, but slowly, pulling her into an embrace.

Never in Alice’s dreams did she imagine Amelia would want to kiss her. Surely alcohol was playing a huge role—Amelia must be out of her mind. And Alice, too, for kissing her back, moving her lips in sync. She felt Amelia squish those glorious breasts up against her chest, and within her rose an utter bliss.

She felt something warm, and frankly slimy enter her mouth. It was tongue. Amelia was using tongue. To make room, Alice had to open her own mouth wider, which felt incredibly intimate and perverted, and felt her tongue slide next to Amelia’s. It was wet and messy, but Alice caught glimpses of Amelia’s face desperately kissing her own and forgot immediately. Her mind was being absorbed into a fantasy, where she was brave enough to grope the body burning with lust in front of her, be it the breasts pressed against her or the hips and crotch that were thrusting against her lap sensually, as if to beg for her hand.

When she felt a hand move up her dress, she froze. Realizing it where Amelia’s hand wanted to go, she pushed Amelia away.

“I have to go.”

Without another word, she left flustered into the night, accidentally slamming the door behind her.


	2. The Wake

Part II

When did it start?

Amelia grappled with this question, alone in her room. Sober now, she revisited the previous evening in full lucidity. She had always liked Alice. Alice was smart, funny, and kind. Alice was pretty, but understated and modest.

Amelia couldn’t explain. She just liked being with Alice, because when they were together, Amelia was more like herself. It wasn’t that Amelia put on a front for others, but rather, there wasn’t anything that she felt she needed to be.

And then last night. Her mind, in a haze, went with the flow. That evening, seeing Alice’s flushed face and slightly glazed over eyes at the party, it made Amelia feel funny. It made her want to be alone with Alice, so that no one else could see that face. Seeing Alice flush when Amelia pressed close, that made Amelia feel funny too. It made her want to press harder.

And kissing Alice. It was like seeing a new side of the same coin. Alice’s fair skin and soft lips. Amelia held her face in her hands. That dress, too. It was a cute dress and Amelia liked it. But sometimes she just wanted to take it off, to literally undress her.

But what was she thinking? Alice was her friend. And Amelia had kissed her friends before, in similar states of inebriation, but she wasn’t stupid enough to assume that Alice would be comfortable with that sort of thing. Alice, who was extremely private and reserved, who blushed if someone did so much as lean on her, being okay with kissing for fun? 

In Amelia’s alcohol-induced dreams, maybe. 

Without thinking, she had just gone ahead and did it. She just let her body do what it wanted to do and her hands go where they wanted to go. She never bothered to ask if Alice was okay with it. She had told herself that it was alright, that the look in Alice’s eyes was one of desire and longing, but Amelia had only her assumption to go by.

Amelia felt like she would fold in on herself and disintegrate at the same time. She would never want to force herself on Alice. She hadn’t. But it was clear that her advance was unwanted.

And Alice probably wouldn’t want to see her, even if Amelia wanted to make it up to her as soon as possible. How would she make up for it, anyway? 

It was a side of Amelia that Alice wasn’t familiar with. Francoise and Maddie were well acquainted with Amelia’s various ways, but so far Alice had only seen her in contexts of lunches and trips and book club meetings, in the open—not in the more intimate, private space of a bedroom.

Amelia thought of all the different sides she had. There was her friendly, gregarious side. The side that familiarized her with a large portion of the community, so everywhere she went, she had someone to say hi to. Having any amount of connection with someone felt like expanding her world. There was her diligent side. She had a clean room, good grades, and exercised regularly. She may come off as goofy and laidback, and often times even impulsive, but she took care of things.

There were infinite sides to Amelia, and sitting on her bed thinking now, she realized she wanted Alice to know all of them. Including the sexy side.

Amelia was too self-aware to ignore the appeal of her own body. Her boobs were amazing, and her hips, butt, and thighs, were impressively strong and sturdy. Muscle and fat were in good supply. She wasn’t a girl you could knock over easily. Curves here and there, and a pretty face. She turned heads and caught eyes.

She wanted to catch Alice’s eyes too. For Alice to appreciate those things too.

Amelia was in love.

Frozen in place, she stared at her door. She was in love with Alice. She didn’t want to kiss Alice for fun. She wanted to kiss Alice to express herself. She wanted Alice to do the same. There were people she could kiss and not have it mean anything. But not for Alice.

Alice? She was probably not keen on seeing Amelia right now. Maybe not for a while. If ever. Amelia could feel her thoughts tumbling over each other in panic. 

She had messed up. Surely this wasn’t the end of their entire friendship. But she couldn’t tell, couldn’t read Alice’s mind. Alice rarely smiled, but Amelia could tell when she was pleased. She rarely laughed, responding to Amelia’s humor with her own sardonic touch, but Amelia could tell when she was amused. Reading her mood was not a problem.

Rather, there was something about Alice that made it seem like she had something on her mind, but she would probably never tell you. And many times Amelia pondered what Alice was thinking. Her green eyes fixated on things intensely, and sometimes her face would burn a little pink, as if there was a lot going on inside. Amelia couldn’t imagine what they were, although in remembering that look on Alice’s face, she liked to pretend it was Alice imagining lewd things. It was a bit silly, but thinking about it that way turned Amelia on.

Amelia felt a bit embarrassed. She was the one who was imagining perverted things. Her attention would catch onto Alice’s tapered fingers, or her slender legs, the parts of Alice’s body that Amelia could see, and activate some part of her psyche buried beneath conscious recognition.

Part of her knew that her subtle fascination with those drew up something not quite so innocent. Part of her felt like it was choking a little, like she wanted to breathe Alice in, but was gasping for breath while Alice felt so far away.

None of this felt right. If Amelia wanted to, she could go to the other end of the building, right now, and knock on Alice’s door, and explain everything. Even if it didn’t fix things, at least the truth would be out. So that’s what she did. Her heart pounded in her chest much like her hand did against the door.

When Alice answered, Amelia’s insides jumped, jumbling her words into a disorganized mess. Struggling, she managed to start with, “Alice, I need to talk to you.”

Alice was completely still. There was a silence before she said “Yes?”

Words lined Amelia’s lips like fire. Her mind tripped over thoughts, crisscrossing and leaping. “I… How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“What have you been up to?”

Alice stared at her. “I’ve been studying.” As if to say, like usual. What are you standing here for, as if something is out of the ordinary?

Amelia suddenly felt terribly alone in her franticness. She gulped. The real sentences procrastinated, biding their time lodged in her throat. Aren’t you bothered by what I did? The thought hit her like a thorn. She blurted it out and the words fell clumsily between them after they left her mouth.

Alice looked away, only slightly, enough that Amelia could perceive it. “What could you have done that could possibly have bothered me?”

In disbelief, Amelia almost yelled. “I kissed you! I tried to touch you! Why are you making me say it?”

Alice flushed, still averting her gaze.

“You were drunk. It’s fine. It didn’t mean anything.”

Amelia felt as if she would fall to the floor, like gravity had doubled its force and the air fell like lead onto her shoulders. It didn’t mean anything?

“No, you’re wrong,” she replied, voice shaking. She saw Alice tense. She didn’t want to reveal her feelings in these circumstances, not while she felt like she was being crushed, and Alice felt cold. But she would feel invisible until she said it. “I’m in love with you, Alice. I’ve liked you, for a long time.”

Alice looked at her. Expressionlessly at first, and then with wide, unreadable eyes. Amelia felt tears slip down her cheeks. When they had appeared there, she did not know.

“Amelia?”

Amelia continued looking at her, to indicate that she was listening.

“Are you still drunk?”

The truth was, in her numb confusion, Alice could not believe the words she had just heard. Amelia liked her? She wanted to float up, into the sky, out of sheer elation. Her heart was bursting with feeling. But her mind could not register it as factual truth, because it was so out of the realm of possibilities it had ever pondered, and so the elation was delayed, preceded by a stunned stupor.

But to Amelia, these words cut like a sword. Her feelings looked like a joke, like the sort of silly thing a drunk person spewed out thoughtlessly, indicating nothing of substance. She couldn’t bear it, and turned to walk away.

Only then did Alice realize what a large, smelly foot she had put in her own mouth. Running and reaching out, she took Amelia’s hand in hers, and Amelia stopped. She half-feared that the hand would be torn away and she would be rejected, but Amelia stopped, offering her a moment of chance.

Alice hadn’t even begun to think of a reply, but now she realized that the silence beckoned one, and Amelia was waiting, listening. Alice’s face flooded with pink. She had not the courage to say it. The idea of those words coming from her felt ludicrous, even if hearing them from Amelia was like salvation.

With her mind unable to produce a verbal thought, she pulled on the hand and walked back to her room, bringing her friend with her.

Amelia followed. She was still reeling, still caved in like the wind had been knocked out of her, so her legs moved as if pre-programmed. They stood facing each other in the room, next to the kitchenette, but how desperately did Amelia want to leave! Quietly, Alice turned off the lights, and they stood in the dark, with daylight filtering in through the blinds. The walls glowed in cool stripes. Amelia couldn’t see Alice’s face, but she waited. It seemed that Alice wanted to say something.

She saw Alice remove her glasses, setting them aside on the kitchen counter. Her green eyes remained in shadow, although she could faintly trace her friend’s expression as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. 

“You are…in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Ah. Alice had never dreamed of this moment. She had dreamed of many others, skin and flesh, but never Amelia’s heart. She had never dared. But here Amelia was, showing it to her. Defying her expectations of reality, and putting her fantasies to shame.

Amelia watched Alice, whose expression was as unreadable as always. But something was different. She watched Alice move towards her, and with trembling hands, Alice touched her face. Unable to meet Amelia’s eyes, Alice looked instead at her neck and chin, and Amelia gulped. Was she…?

She moved in and kissed Amelia once on the cheek. Slowly, barely puckering at all. Still not looking Amelia in the eye, she moved to kiss the other one, and Amelia moved with her, feeling like she was floating somewhere and firmly grounded on the earthly plane and flying into the heavens all at once. No coherent thought attempted to make sense of the present moment. Her skin drank it in.

Alice pressed gently with her lips, against the corner of Amelia’s mouth this time, and Amelia thought she felt her own lips twitch. So close. She could hear herself breathe with anticipation as Alice kissed the opposite side, also touching the corner of her mouth this time. 

Amelia had already closed her eyes, feeling Alice’s slightly quivering hands guiding her face. Almost hesitantly, Alice hovered close, with her lips barely touching Amelia’s, and Amelia swore a flame could ignite in that tiny space. 

With urgency she took the back of Alice’s head in her hand, the point of her chin in the other, and pressed forward sensually, simultaneously pushing and pulling on Alice gently. Alice made a small sound of surprise, which made Amelia’s heart flutter.

“Amelia,” Alice breathed when they pulled apart. Amelia’s mind spun, hearing her name. “Amelia…” Alice gazed upon her, and Amelia pulled her into an embrace, hearing Alice say her name over and over in desperate relief, like she was casting a spell, and Amelia was falling deeper into her blissful enchantment.

They cleared up their misunderstanding after that, and Alice eventually summoned the courage to voice her reply to Amelia’s feelings. They spent the rest of the day together, with Amelia elated and Alice quietly elated as well. But something still seemed to remain that Alice would not reveal. Amelia could sense it, that something was being held back.

But Amelia felt at ease regardless, and by the end of the day their friend circle was in on the loop. Francoise replied with something along the lines of “I knew it,” much to Alice’s embarrassment.

In the days that followed, Amelia felt that she was floating on a rushing river, with the waters passing her by, but her position stable and bobbing peacefully as if she were in the ocean. She realized the way Alice sometimes looked at her was a gaze of tenderness, a gaze difficult to detect from underneath her stubbornly unaffectionate expression. And something else that Amelia couldn’t pinpoint.

She was happy to be in public with Alice, to be seen by Alice’s side. Surely if she had a tail, it would be constantly wagging. 

In her excitement she would move closer to Alice, and the way she entered Alice’s space made Alice notice her own breathing. Both of them wanted to revisit the wordless sexual excitement of that one night. But Alice was too embarrassed to initiate anything, and Amelia too suddenly turned shy, not even able to press herself against Alice again for fear that she would spontaneously lose all control and her hips would turn drunk again.

Francoise and Maddie, who were prone to blatant public displays of affection and an almost smothering amount of cuddling, of course noticed the stiffness of the new couple in their midst. And so Francoise crafted a scheme, a devious plan to get Alice to loosen up.

In hindsight, Francoise would agree that had she brought it up with Amelia, or even Maddie, they would’ve gotten her to see how bad the idea was. Although it indirectly accomplished its goal, so Francoise couldn’t really complain.

The plan was executed at another book club party, the second of which Amelia and Alice were attending as a couple. The initial excitement of a new romance in the midst of the social circle had partially worn off, and Alice appreciated the resultant peace. She had enough on her mind without answering to other people. Lately it seemed that Amelia had something on her mind as well, but for once she was not easily disclosing it as she normally would with her other troubles. This in turn troubled Alice, for she couldn’t imagine what Amelia would want to keep from her. Surely she could help.

Alice had another distraction on her hands, however. In the past two weeks since they had become partners, her loins had steadily become more and more aflame. Touching herself brought little relief, and it was clear what the solution was. She noticed it, how even though they spent more quality time together, Amelia kept a bit of distance, and Alice couldn’t help but long for at least Amelia to press herself against her arm again. It did not occur to Alice to initiate anything. Rather, she continued to fantasize, write, and reach frustrated orgasms alone in her room, heated by the memory of Amelia so much as leaning towards her when they were together.

At the party, Amelia had been distracted by a group of friendly acquaintances, something about an arm wrestling contest, and Alice drank in the kitchen with Francoise and Maddie. Maddie, working towards a nursing degree, was so wiped out from an all-nighter that she was asleep, with her head on the kitchen table, before she could drink even a sip. The clamor of the people in the house didn’t interfere with her slumber, and Francoise, although usually as out and about as Amelia, stayed by her side. The kitchen was a quiet refuge for the introverted Alice as well.

“You look pink,” Francoise commented. “How much have you had to drink?”

“A glass of wine, a can of beer…”

Francoise looked at her with a bit of concern.

Alice lazily waved her hand. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I had an idea for another drinking game.”

“Hm.”

“Making bets on the arm wrestling tournament they’re going to have.”

By the time Maddie had been ushered to a safe bed and Francoise and Alice had made it to the room where most of the party was gathered, the first tournament was over. They were organizing a round for the left hand, now that people’s right arms were exhausted.

“Who do you think will get farther, Amelia or me?” Francoise asked Alice, who had sobered up a bit.

Alice thought about it. Amelia was athletic, and likely to be strong. Her arms were not chopsticks, like Alice’s. She glanced between Amelia and Francoise. They looked to be of similar strength, although Francoise was taller. 

“I’ll go with Amelia,” Alice said noncommittally. It wasn’t like she was announcing her bet to the whole group. Francoise smirked. She had a feeling Alice wouldn’t admit to having a bias towards Amelia to her face, but she was proven wrong.

“Thanks for your faith in me,” Francoise joked. “Now here are the terms. Every time Amelia wins a round and advances, you drink. Every time I win a round and advance, I drink.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be harder to win if you drink more?”

Francoise replied that it would make it a more interesting challenge. Alice stared at her, unconvinced, but honestly if Francoise wanted to drunkenly arm wrestle that bad , then Alice didn’t really give a damn. As the tournament started and Amelia sat down for her first round, she noticed Alice among the back of the spectators and smiled at her, making Alice’s head feel warm. She had the drink ready in her hand, and sure enough, Amelia overpowered the first opponent, who was one of the few men at the party. Alice felt herself cheer on the inside.

And so Alice took a sip, trying to keep the amount of the intake natural—not too much, not too little. Francoise won her first round as well, and downed a shot in front of everyone, inciting some cheers. Alice felt grateful that she was sipping in the back row, away from anyone’s attention.

Both also cleared the second round, and Francoise had yet to be phased by the additional alcohol she was consuming. Alice, on the other hand, felt noticeably fuzzier. Curse being a lightweight. If Amelia made it all the way to the final round, Alice wasn’t sure she could handle it.

Several rounds later, Amelia was still going strong, while Alice could hardly keep her balance. Francoise, too, was a bit unsteady at this point. Somewhere in her growing drowsiness, Alice was able to figure out that Francoise and Amelia would face off in the semifinals.

It was hardly a fair contest. Amelia, mostly fresh-faced, won after some struggle with the tipsy Francoise, and Alice glowed with sleepy pride. The final round after that lasted a bit longer—after a good amount of struggle, Amelia was able to press her opponent’s arm down to the table. She stood up and cheered with the rest of the party, looking straight at Alice, who found herself cheering loudly as well. Alice took her final sip, which slid down her throat tasting like carbonated piss rather than victory. Thank god that was done.

After the party, Amelia walked her home.

“How did you get so drunk?” Amelia asked. “You usually don’t drink that much!”

“Fucking drinking game,” Alice mumbled. “Every time you won.”

“…Did Francoise get you into this?”

“Indeed…”

The fuzzy feeling was still there by the time they made it to Alice’s room.

Alice felt Amelia’s hand in hers, guiding her with care. She felt so warm. Or maybe it was Alice who was really warm. She sat inertly on her bed as Amelia brought her some water.

After drinking, Alice really had to use the bathroom. The sight of her shower reminded her of the first fantasy she had written about Amelia. The fuzziness increased, and her crotch felt a bit heavier. When she left the bathroom, Amelia was standing, as if ready to go home now that Alice was safe.

Alice flopped on her bed. “Stay…”

Amelia paused, surprised. The way Alice had said it was so unexpectedly endearing, looking coyly up at Amelia with that flushed face of hers. “I wasn’t going anywhere, but alright.” Smiling tenderly, she sat next to Alice.

They stayed like that for a while, and Amelia felt comfortable enough to reach out and brush some stray hairs out of Alice’s face. In that moment of contact, something within Alice awoke.

The past two weeks of little physical contact, the even greater number of weeks before that, where Alice could only dream of touching Amelia, culminated in that moment. Alice burned with overwhelming frustration and desire as she lay quietly on her bed, with Amelia right next to her, stroking her hair. Why? Why had she not touched Amelia, all this time? What was she afraid of? Alice couldn’t remember. She sat up, swaying a little, and Amelia withdrew her hand.

“I’ve fantasized about you so many times,” she stated bluntly. Amelia’s eyes widened, then looked away, the cheeks below them blushing shyly.

“Oh.” The hand that was used to stroke Alice’s hair now subconsciously brushed Amelia’s hair behind her ear. Amelia wasn’t replying, but she seemed pleased. At least from Alice’s point of view. Fearlessly, she continued.

“I’ve fantasized about you doing so many things.”

Amelia couldn’t help but ask. “What kinds of things?”

Alice was leaning towards her. “Showering,” she started. “Touching yourself, in the shower.”

Amelia’s heart raced. She shifted where she sat, feeling blood rushing south with instinctual anticipation.

“These past few months… I’ve wanted to touch you, so bad,” Alice said, a bit sleepily. “When you used to press your tits against me, it drove me fucking nuts.”

“Oh.” Amelia felt her body heat up. She was reminded of the presence of her chest and the way her cleavage intersected with her low neckline, the way her breasts partially met the open air, open to giving Alice a peek.

Alice began to unbutton her dress, and Amelia swallowed. This wasn’t right. As Alice started to pull the hem up above her waist, Amelia stopped her, and Alice looked at her.

“I can’t do it if you’re drunk,” Amelia said.

Alice pouted. “Fuck that shit. I want you.”

Amelia resisted the urge to chuckle at Alice’s drunk, vulgar bluntness. She quite enjoyed this alternate side, at least as a temporary state.

“Here,” Amelia started. “You can have me in the morning. I’ll sleep next to you tonight.”

Alice didn’t see anything wrong with that.

When the lights went out and Amelia climbed into bed, Alice was too tired to move. The alcohol was seeping into every bit of her body, and with Amelia’s urging she had taken in water and gone to the bathroom twice more. Feeling more secure about her bladder by this point, she felt the heaviness of her limbs as she lay on her side, with Amelia’s own strong arms wrapping around her from behind.

“Why ‘m I the fuckin’ little spoon,” Alice grumbled, barely coherent.

Amelia laughed. “Because I’ve got the big, strong arms.” Alice couldn’t argue with that. It was nice to feel Amelia’s soft, but sturdy arms around her. She curled into the embrace, embedding herself further within warmth and safety.

They exchanged good nights and felt each other’s heartbeats, thumping together as their bodies pressed against one another. Ironically Amelia was the first to fall asleep, leaving Alice alone to feel her mind clearing a tiny bit, thinking about how every day of her life culminated in this night of bliss, in her girlfriend’s arms.

Before she knew it, she was asleep as well. Several times during the night, one would wake halfway, stirring, and thus half-wake the other. They would shift and fall back asleep, facing each other, facing away, or switching back to little spoon and big spoon as before. When the morning came, and warm sunlight glowed in stripes on the walls, Amelia opened her eyes.

Alice’s hair had come loose from her pigtails, tangling between their bodies, acting as a thin barrier. Her glasses reflected the yellow glow from in between the blinds from its resting place on her bedside table. Amelia traced the curve of Alice’s body, subtly discernable from underneath the covers, noting where the arms, chest, and hips were.

“Alice?” she said quietly. Alice stirred and gave a soft grunt in reply. Amelia squeezed gently and nuzzled into the back of Alice’s neck.

Alice gasped, startling Amelia bit and turning her on.

“Amelia,” Alice whined into her pillow. “It’s morning. I’m sober. Just…”

Amelia felt hot and heavy as well, no doubt from being pressed against Alice all night. She could sense the same burdening desire from Alice’s tense body. Pressing her lips into Alice’s neck, she listened to her girlfriend whine and gasp as tension transformed into pleasure.

“You’re really sensitive,” Amelia breathed.

“You think?” 

Amelia could see that the tips of her girlfriend’s ears were bright pink. Delighting in this, she resumed her attention to Alice’s neck, brushing lips against contours, brushing aside hair to suck on one spot, then the next. Alice made little noises all the way, encouraging her to continue.

Amelia was no longer listening to conscious commands but rather Alice’s sounds, guided by a sudden jerk of the body, her hands rubbing up and down Alice’s front through her dress, running over breasts and thighs almost hungrily, as if grasping for something, grasping for Alice to makes sounds again and again, which she eventually did as Amelia, almost impatiently, reached under the dress put her hand between Alice’s thighs.

“Ah, fuck,” Alice breathed. She tried to summon a fantasy as she usually would on her journey to climax, but her mind was in too much a state of heat to create the details. Instead she rocked against Amelia’s hand.

With hands twisting and maneuvering through fabric, Amelia felt Alice, warm and already wet. The rustle of bed sheets and dress fabric and the slight movement of the mattress, the indirect glow of sunlight bouncing off the walls, and Amelia’s face pressed against the curve of her neck, breasts pushing against her back—Alice drank it all in simultaneously with Amelia running a finger back and forth. She heard a moan coming from somewhere.

Somewhere along the way she ended up on her back, Amelia stroking her and her legs opening up, spreading, displaying herself to Amelia’s hand. With Amelia sucking gently on her lip and teasing her, she heard the moan again. This time, she recognized it as her own. She felt almost desperate now, and when Amelia asked her for permission to proceed, she nodded, face flushed, eyes closed, arm wrapped around Amelia’s shoulder, holding on as she felt her control of herself slipping.

At first there was one, then two. It was a tight fit, but Alice felt Amelia brush against the insides, filling her up somewhat, entering where only Alice had ever been.

“Fuck,” she breathed, and cried out when Amelia started to slide them out a bit, then back in, moving against the inside and the outside, making Alice jerk and push and squeeze against her surroundings. She felt wetness continue to build up, to encourage Amelia to go from gently moving in and out to thrusting just a bit more recklessly, while her other hand clasped Alice’s, intertwining and entering the spaces between her fingers.  
Alice reached under her waistline as well, caressing a certain sweet spot as Amelia pushed inside her. The tightness between her thighs grew although her legs were spread apart as ever. Alice would remember the way Amelia’s hair brushed gently on her face as she turned to cry out, orgasm seizing her voice, making her arch into Amelia’s body, becoming one with everything immediately touching her.

How long these blissful, overtaking pulses lasted, neither of them paid attention to. Amelia kissed her with delight in the denouement. “Again?” she posed as a question, but also as an exclamation.

Alice, still catching her breath, looking over to her girlfriend, whose face was almost as flushed as hers, looking as eager as if she was waiting for ice cream. A small smile of amusement briefly graced Alice’s lips, usurping its flat line of contentment for only a moment.

She felt the fresh layer, slight and cool, of sweat on both their bodies, and the way it made her clothes stick to her damply felt quite unpleasant. Her mind jumped to the shower. Ah.

“Yeah. But, we should shower first.”


End file.
